


Bathroom Pass

by red_crate



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Barebacking, Bathroom Sex, Come Marking, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Scent Marking, Semi-Public Sex, sex tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 22:29:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13153344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_crate/pseuds/red_crate
Summary: “Greedy little thing, aren’t you, baby?” Peter murmurs, tracing the thumb that had been in Stiles’ mouth over the rim of his entrance. “You’ll take my cock and let me come in you, even if I don’t let you come too.”





	Bathroom Pass

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely self-indulgent smut.
> 
> Heads up before you read: This fic isn't very flattering to Scott. You've been prepared.

It takes barely any effort to slip into the school, and Peter smirks to himself when he gets a reply text full of exclamation points and shocked emojis. A few minutes later, the bathroom door is swinging open.

“What the hell?” Stiles hisses the words, looking back over his shoulder as if to check that he’s not being followed. He walks over to Peter as he asks, “Are you crazy?”

Peter lifts an eyebrow and reels the boy closer with a hand on Stiles’ waist. “What do you think?”

Their lips collide, cutting off Stiles’ reply for the moment.

He loves how pliant Stiles is for him, even now when Peter showed up at Stiles’ school in the middle of the day demanding they meet. Stiles moves when Peter tugs him until they’re both standing in a stall. At the slide of the lock, Stiles breaks the kiss. His cheeks are flushed, and he’s already hard in his jeans. 

“What if Scott hears us?” His tongue runs along his bottom lip slowly. The concern Stiles is going for is negated by his hands running down Peter’s chest until they hook around his hips. 

“Let him.” Peter answers flippantly. It’s part of the thrill for him anyway. “He really ought to learn how to keep out of other people’s business, shouldn’t he?” He slowly smiles at Stiles. 

The blush that spreads down Stiles’ neck is enticing. Peter can hear his quick heartbeat, smell the arousal rolling off him. Peter steps close enough that he can push a thigh between Stiles’ legs and grind a little. 

He asks, “Are you going to be good for Daddy?”

Stiles buckles completely at that, exactly the way Peter had planned. It makes his cock harder and something possessive rear up inside—a common occurrence around his boy. 

“Yes,” Stiles answers immediately, eagerness coloring his voice. 

When he pushes Peter away a bit and starts to kneel, Peter stops him. He grabs Stiles by the shoulder with one hand and cups Stiles’ jaw with the other. His thumb brushes over Stiles’ bitten and damp bottom lip once before Peter pushes it in. Stiles immediately sucks at it, cheeks hollowing and tongue rubbing at his finger tip. 

Stiles is trained well. 

After he makes a pleased sound, Peter pulls his thumb out and says, “Not right now, baby. I want something else.” He leans in a presses a lingering kiss to that tempting mouth. “Turn around for me.”

Stiles’ eyes widen at that, but he complies. Peter watches as Stiles brings his hands up to brace against the tiled wall of their stall and waits. He takes a second to press a hand to his cock where it’s pushing against the front of his pants as he slowly drinks in the sight of this beautiful boy doing as he says and waiting for him to do as he pleases. 

Pressing up against Stiles’ back, Peter reaches around to the fasten of the boy’s jeans and whispers in his ear. “I’m gonna fuck you right here.” 

“Oh fuck yes, Daddy.” Stiles rubs his ass against Peter’s crotch excitedly. 

Peter kisses Stiles’ hair and snakes his hand in the front of his jeans to free his leaking cock. Lightly stroking it once, he adds, “But you don’t get to come.”

The whine Stiles lets out causes a wicked grin to spread over Peter’s mouth as he breathes in the potent scent of desperation and lust pouring off Stiles. He gets the jeans and underwear pushed down Stiles’ legs and his shirt pushed up his back a little. Peter lovingly caresses Stiles’ spine, downward so he can finish by getting a handful of firm ass and squeezing. When he parts Stiles’ cheeks, he can see the flutter of his hole where Stiles is clenching and unclenching in anticipation of being filled. 

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you, baby?” Peter murmurs, tracing the thumb that had been in Stiles’ mouth over the rim of his entrance. “You’ll take my cock and let me come in you, even if I don’t let you come too.”

Stiles shudders and nods. “Yes.” His legs spread as far as they can with his clothes still restraining his movement. Peter watches as he licks his lips and opens his mouth again. “I want…” He doesn’t finish his request however. 

Peter slicks his fingers without watching. The small bottle of lube he brought goes back into his pocket and his fingers slip along Stiles’ ass until he is pushing one inside. He groans quietly to himself, then asks, “What do you want? Ask me, and Daddy might give it to you.”

They don’t have much time here, and anyone could walk in, even if Peter should be able to hear them coming. Still, as long as Stiles’ request doesn’t interfere with his plans, he’s will to try doing what his boy asks of him. 

“Make me feel it?” Stiles pants the words out, grimacing at the intrusion when Peter pushes a second finger in a little too soon. 

Peter kisses Stiles’ neck in apology. “Relax for me now, and I’ll fuck your brains out in a few minutes.” He stretches his fingers and relishes in the focused way Stiles loosens around them now. 

He’s hot and tight, and Peter wants his cock in there  _ now _ . 

He gives it another couple of minutes of tortuously slow stretching, until he can easily get three fingers inside and coax Stiles to a whine when he presses against that sweet spot inside. 

Stiles begs once with a broken sob as his hips hitch backwards to chase Peter’s fingers, and then Peter is pulling back. He slicks his cock up with the fingers that had just been inside Stiles and adds a little more lube just in case. He wants Stiles to feel it, but he doesn’t want to hurt him. 

The first stroke inside takes the breath right out of Peter. It’s heaven and hell and every terribly wonderful thing in between. He braces his forehead against Stiles’ shoulder when he’s fully sheathed in his boy. Stiles’ fingers scrabble against the wall as he sucks in air. Peter doesn’t move for several long moments, enjoying the feel of drowning in Stiles. 

It’s been nearly ten minutes since Stiles joined him in the bathroom. They have even less time than they did. 

Peter pulls back halfway before snapping his hips forward. Stiles makes a gorgeous little sound at that, biting his lips to try and stay quiet. Peter keeps his eyes trained on the side of Stiles’ face where it’s pressed against the wall. He doesn’t want to miss a thing. 

“You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.” Peter tugs the collar of Stiles’ shirt out of the way with one hand so he can kiss his shoulder when he fucks in again. He scrapes his human teeth over the skin. 

He’s so tempted to bite him with more. 

Stiles squirms against him and nods his head frantically. Peter can smell the precome slicking out of the tip of his cock where it curves, untouched, against Stiles’ stomach. He runs his hands down until he can wrap his hands around his waist again. He keeps up a harsh pace—in and out with long strokes. 

“Daddy, Daddy.” The string of words trip off Stiles’ lips as he lets himself be fucked. 

Peter relishes in it and the feel. He chases his own orgasm, picturing the way Stiles will look after and how he’ll smell. A groan crawls out of his throat at that. 

“Tell me you want it.” He demands, voice rough and deep. 

Stiles shivers, and Peter tugs on his earlobe with his teeth. 

“Do it, please,” Stiles grits the words out through clenched teeth as Peter purposefully angles so his thrusts hit his boy’s sweet spot. “Want it.”

Licking a line up Stiles’ neck, Peter grinds in again and again with shorter movements. He usually makes this last as long as possible, tries to ring Stiles out with orgams until he’s oversensitive before coming himself. This time, he doesn’t back off. 

“ _ Mine _ .” Peter growls the words, shoving in one last time and spilling deep inside Stiles. 

He reaches around to grab Stiles by the base of his dick just in case. The skin there is smooth and firm, hot to the touch. Stiles jerks in his hand and precome slides over Peter’s knuckles. Tears are clouding Stiles’ vision, Peter can smell it. 

“Gorgeous.”

Stiles whimpers and clenches rhythmically around Peter’s slowly softening cock. “P-please,” he tries begging. 

He wants to come too.

Peter runs his nose and mouth up along Stiles’ cheek, catching the tears that fall on his tongue. He kisses Stiles’ cheekbone. “No, baby. You’re not going to come right now.” 

A sob rips out of Stiles’ throat at that, but he’s already nodding his head. Peter rewards and teases him with one slow stroke over Stiles’ cock before he lets go. He gently pulls out. 

As he reaches down to pull Stiles’ underwear and jeans back up, he says, “If you keep your hands to yourself the rest of the day, then I’ll let you come on my tongue tonight.” 

He strokes his fingers over Stiles’ ass one more time, spreading the cheeks so he can see the red and stretched rim of his entrance. Come is already starting to leak out slowly. Peter smears it around. 

Once he has Stiles mostly to rights in his rumpled clothes, Peter tucks himself back in and straightens his own shirt. Stiles flops over and uses the wall to hold himself up on wobbly legs. There’s still a bulge in the front of his jeans where he’s half hard. 

“I’ll be good.” Stiles promises after swallowing once and licking his lips as he held Peter’s gaze. 

As much as Peter is in charge, they’re both aware just how much Peter is affected by Stiles—the things Peter would do for him.

Peter yanks Stiles in by the belt loops and gives him a bruising kiss. He’s sated for now, relaxed, and warm all over, but he always wants his boy. He squeezes Stiles’ ass with one hand. 

“They’re going to know what happened and with who.” Peter relishes in it. He smirks meanly. 

Scott is going to be disgusted and appalled. 

Stiles’ cheeks flush, but he doesn’t smell like regret or annoyance. “You’re such a dick.” He smiles around the words. 

Humming, Peter says, “You love it.” That makes Stiles’ heart rate tick back up. 

His smile softens when he agrees. “I do.” Stiles leans in to kiss Peter chastely on the lips. When they part again, he says, “You’re still a dick though. How am I supposed to concentrate on European history after this?” 

“You’ll manage.” Peter pats Stiles’ cheek before turning to unlock the stall. 

They kiss again, domestic and sweetly, just inside the bathroom door. Peter gives him one last parting reminder. “Be a good boy.” 

Stiles nods his head. “I will.” He winks.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come hang out with me on Tumblr](http://the-redcrate.tumblr.com).


End file.
